


Freedom Of Falling

by corinnemaree



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: Claire knows that her pack is strained, but with every other pack trying to gain power, she is thrown into unexpected territory; Marrying into another pack to preserve her line. They have no say, yet, they might not want to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t seem to stay away from werewolf fics and this is where I must remain. Enjoy!

Figures raced past the stone pillars, never quite able to be seen. That’s the point of them - to be there, lurking and hunting. Padded footsteps travelled the floors of the abandoned cathedral. The old church had seen its fair share of creatures and it had witnessed Claire and her pack hundreds of times. These talks had lasted years, but this was the final time Claire would step foot - or paws - inside it. She was looking forward to never having to see these other packs again. 

The figures soon all met at the altar, all looking at each other before one shifted up. A tall man with red hair stepped forward, completely naked before the other wolves. Richard Smith. He loved showing off when no one cared. Then, they all shifted, men naked and fumbling around to find their respective clothes hidden away amongst the pews around them. As they were all distracted, Claire shifted going to her hidden spot and pulling the oversized shirt over her head. It hung down to her thighs and when Claire untucked her hair from the shirt, she was met with Owen Grady walking past Lincoln Wayne - the next alpha from the Wayne pack. 

Owen and Claire had a history - all the children of the alpha packs knew each other and grew up together - their relationship however could become the most hostile of any of the members. They could get on like they were long friends or fight like they were mortal enemies, there was really no in between. It was difficult to figure out which side they would be on; Claire was aiming for enemies this night. 

“So, this is our last night together. Let’s make it a good one?” he said, the same old cocky smirk on his lips. Owen put his hands on the edge of his sweatpants, edging delightfully at the brink of his hips, showing off the tidy v shape that his bones formed. 

“Let’s. But know, if you are ever to see me again, I will pierce your eyes out,” Claire replied, noticing the gaze that Owen held over her, watching her with intense eyes and inspecting her more than he knew he should have. Claire snapped her fingers in front of his face. He broke free of her allure. 

“Good. I’d hate to look on you for another minute,” he said, trying to antagonise her.

“Good,” she shrugged. 

“And the tension mounts,” Vic Hoskins spoke and the young alphas all groaned.

“Fuck off, Vic. Just because we all hate you, doesn’t mean you get to ruin our fun,” Claire snapped and the other men laughed around her. Then, the older alphas stepped forward, each family going to their respective side. Claire stood alongside her father, Walter, she being the next alpha of their family line. Owen stood beside his father, Robert, and next was Ricky Smith along with his father, Thomas. Lincoln Wayne with the oldest wolf, Stewart, and the last family on the list; the Hoskins. Vic and his father, Quintin, were the most secluded pack on the list, every other pack having a few other families to call their own - yet, the Hoskins remained loyal to their name and blood and only ever kept their own. 

The packs were the most important things for werewolves - lone wolves could never survive or would wither away without the packs. They were formed over hundreds of years, the families either rising or falling. The Dearings only ever rose. Now, however, they would fall, for there was no male heir to carry on the name. Claire had convinced her father to let all the family live on through Claire’s children. So, this was the last day that Claire would have to hear about the Dearing name. She’d live it, and she’d let it live on. 

 

The packs stood tall, all the young alphas knowing their fathers would be stepping down so that their rule could finally be made full; all were eager. Claire would be the first female alpha to rule her pack and live freely as possible - she would make other packs quake with fear and wish they were with her, she could feel it. 

Claire’s father cleared his throat, a look of worry on his brow. Claire didn’t make anything of it“Now, when we organised this final meeting, we never told you all why,” “We’re going to keep the Dearing name as pure as possible, to be lead by more alphas,” 

“What are you say, Dad?” Claire pulled on her father’s arm, watching as his eyes couldn’t meet hers. 

“You are going to marry the next leading alpha,” he said in a low voice and the other wolves whispered amongst themselves, the younger boys all glancing to Claire as they spoke to their fathers.

“What?” Claire cursed. “Are you insane?” 

“It’s the only way to keep our line as pure and our pack as strong as ever,” he said and Claire scoffed at the idea.

“I’m not marrying anyone from this group of idiots,” she berated. 

“We’ve already decided,” Walter continued, his eyes straying from her gaze more than ever. Claire whimpered, the welling in her chest so tight, she barely thought she could get her words out. 

“You’re arranging a marriage?” she murmured, breathing harsh and heavy. 

“Yes,” her father replied. “You are to marry Owen.” 

Claire blinked for a few moments, realising that her father wasn’t joking. She burst into laughter, shaking her head and pushing past her father. To think he would make her do this was an outrage and she wasn’t going to stand around and take it. “I’m leaving. You can’t force me to do this.”

“I  _ can _ and you  _ will _ !” her father bellowed, every inch of Claire’s skin crawling at the idea of defying his word. “You will not leave this church, Claire!” he roared and her feet stopped moving. Claire wanted to edge her foot past the front door but the urge to resist his power made her weak and she snapped. Claire’s shoulders hunched over, the tears falling like she was just waiting for a chance to break. 

Her toe nudged at the floor, trying ever so hard to get out of the damned church. As her hands lay on the thick wooden doors, the old thing creaking beneath her hold - Claire was forced to tear herself away before she tore the door from its hinges. Claire turned on her heels, seeing the young alphas all staring away or down at their feet instead of watching Claire break. Claire walked up to her father, catching a glimpse of Owen, who sucked in a tight breath. She stopped when she came into contact with her father, his gaze stuck on his feet. For an alpha, his courage lacked. Claire, feeling her chin shake, caught her father’s jaw, forcing his eyes to hers as the tears skidded past their brink.

“You are an arrogant man who has obviously never cared for me. Rot in this decision, you disgusting man,” she lied, just to punish him. She watched as his chin wobbled and his eyes finally betray him.

“Claire -” he tried to say until Claire walked past him. She needed air and she needed to get away from anyone and everyone at that point. Going towards the stairs, she heard the scuffling of a few people going after her. 

“Give her a minute, Walter,” Claire heard Owen say before she finally made it to a balcony on the second floor. She took a needed breath before she screamed with every last bit of air she could conjure. Her shoulders shook as she began to cry, covering her mouth as the other bound in the stone. Even with her strength aiding in the effort, the stone underneath her hand was crumbling far easier than she expected. 

Breathing in the cold air, Claire felt like crumbling to her knees, to let every weak point in her body collapse down with her and to finally be free of it all, but she stayed upright - because she always stayed upright. In another moment, she felt something hit her shoulder and drape across her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she found of pair of tracksuit pants hanging there. Then, she saw Owen standing by the doorway outside, his hands resting on the upper part of his exposed hips. 

“I know you always feel safer in pants,” he remarked. He tilted his head, chuckling at his words. “That came out weirder than expected,” he said, tight lipped. 

“I got what you meant,” Claire commented as she jumped into the loose pants. Owen walked over to the balcony, looking out and noticing the crumbling stone that had been underneath Claire’s hand. He sighed, scratched the back of his neck and turned to Claire completely, knowing there was no avoiding this conversation anymore. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. Claire leaned on the balcony railing, combing a hand through her hair. 

“Well, it feels like I’m not enough to be an alpha for my pack, so, you tell me,” she shrugged, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“So, shitty?” he shrugged back, the same cocky smile as always. Now, it put her at ease instead of irritation. How could he do that? She hated that stupid smirk and it’s multitude of meanings. 

“Yeah,” she laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How would Leanne feel about all this?” Claire asked, which responded with a shy and embarrassed grin.

“Oh, she wouldn’t have a say,” he replied, trying to duck his head. He needed it because Claire’s hand swung right around the top of his head, smacking him in a friendly way.

“Since when?” Claire exclaimed, shoving him in the chest. 

“Since about three weeks ago?” he replied, chuckling slightly.

“Leanne was a good one! Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Last time we saw each other, you scratched me across the face,” Owen reminded and Claire bit at her lip, remembering the altercation that ensued the last time they met. To say it didn’t end well would be an understatement. 

“You could have called me,” she told him. Though their relationship was hostile and unrelenting, there were moments where they could only stand each other. Claire would call Owen when her mind raced or needed advice on certain things. They could stay up for hours just talking to each other, yet never mention the conversations to anyone else. Neither of them really understood how this all came about, how they trusted and doubted each other all in one.  “Your face healed well,” Claire cleared her throat.

“The shift did that,” Owen shrugged, looking over at her, fond eyes she had seen a number of times before. Yet, right now, she couldn’t handle it - emotions were running high, not to mention that it was still a full moon and every time there was, all the alphas were on edge. 

“Thank god for that. Too ugly for any other scars,” she laughed. Owen must have sensed the tension because he changed the subject quickly. 

“How is Fitz gonna feel about this?” 

“Don’t bring him up again,” Claire groaned, covering her eyes. 

“Oh, that’s right, your little omega couldn’t handle such an alpha,” he reminded her. That break up was one of the first nights Claire willingly called Owen and talked to him until the sun came up. 

“Shut up,” she said, shoving his chest slightly. They both turned to look out at the night, watching as the moon came out from behind the clouds, bringing the howling wolves to attention. They made a gorgeous song of howls that echoed across the woods and into the neighbouring city. “If I had been a boy, none of this would ever be an option,” Claire remarked, the last whistles of the strangled barks. 

“I know,” Owen said in a quiet voice, both knowing that every alpha who can carry on their pack name is important - yet, women are always bound by the fact that their name is lost when married. 

“But, I heard him and so did you. I can’t defy my alpha’s orders. I will marry you.” An alpha’s word was bond to their pack - every word and every command must be taken as law to a pack, defying orders or quests would mean a loss of pack and family. She couldn’t even leave that damn church because of it. 

“But you don’t want to. Because you don’t like or care for me,” Owen remarked and Claire turned to him, not quite expecting him to be so blunt. “I get it Claire, but we’ve been order to. There’s nothing we can do,” he said with a sour tone, turning to the church once more.

“I do like you, Owen,” Claire commented, which had Owen turning, a hopeful smile on his face. “I just don’t want to fall in love with you,” she said softly, regret touching at the back of her throat.

Owen physically flinched, his face stunned into confusion and he disappeared back inside. Claire let her face rest in her hands, the wind picking up and blowing past her. Of all things to remember, Claire remembered the night where everything changed, where regret and sentences were cut short because of.

At twenty three, the world was at their feet and the night before the full moon meant the entire city was celebrating. Werewolf festivals were in full swing and house parties roaring with music and people howling. Claire stood out the back, her skin on fire even though the night was chilly. In a short white skirt and a top that was cropped and showed off far too much, she was still boiling. Natural heating, of course, but it meant being inside with hundreds of other wolves made things intense. 

“Woah! Where did the tattoo come from?” she heard close by. Finding Owen and his tilted head looking at her side, just beneath her ribs, Claire tried to hid the new ink on her skin. 

“Nowhere,” she said in a hurried voice before pulling on Owen’s collar. “And if my dad asks, I don’t have one, you got it?” she warned and Owen laughed, nodding to her request.

“Got it,” he complied. “It’s cool though. I like it,” he said, tilting his head to see the tattoo once more. Claire rolled her eyes and lifted up the edge of her top, revealing the top of the tattoo.

“Take a better look if you’re so intrigued,” she remarked as Owen knelt down. The wolf tattoo was something her father and grandfather had the moment they found out they were alphas, yet because Claire was a girl, her father said he wouldn’t go with her get one - she, however, insisted on the tradition to continue. 

“How did you get to be permanent?” Owen asked. 

“A lot of pain,” she winced as he tried to touch it.

“Blowtorch?” 

“Took a note out of your book,” she said, touching his shoulder to the ink he pressed them not a year earlier. Werewolves healed quickly; so quickly in fact, they could never get anything permanent on their skin - unless they used a blowtorch to permanently remove the skin over the tattoo.

“Nice,” Owen smiled rising up again. As he came up, instincts and lust took a hold of Claire - growing up with the boy you like can be frustrating to say the least, especially when he had no clue you like him.

“You know, Grady,” she started as a whirlwind of emotions washed over a shocked Owen’s face. “If we weren’t both alphas, I’d be with you in a heartbeat,” she smiled. 

“You’re drunk,” Owen said, biting his lip and moving Claire’s hands from his collar. 

“Nope,” she shrugged. “Might as well say it now in case I never get to, you know?” she sighed, embarrassed that she even tried to do anything.

“You’re right,” Owen muttered. Claire was tucking hair behind her ear when she felt Owen’s hands skim up her cheeks and lead her lips to his. 

His lips were softer than she expected. She expected him to have heated lips with coarse edges. Yet, his lips were tentative and soft, like the most delicate part of him so brilliantly exposed and was scared of torture. Claire kissed back, rising on her toes to put his lips at ease. Then, she found the heat she had thought of - and he held her fiercely against him, both just trying to see what the other would do. 

They crept to the side of the house, their lips barely parting. Owen’s hands became tighter around her hips and waist as Claire’s arms went over his shoulders, binding behind his back and bringing him in. Every scent was being smelled, every feeling coursing through their veins, and they were feeding their wolf side far more than they knew they should have. Claire clung to Owen, moaning as his hands brought her into him tighter. 

God, his hands were working magic - they would pull and push and tug with all needs being shown on the surface. His hand slipped from her hip, sneaking underneath her skirt and his fingers fiddling with the strap of her underwear. Claire whimpered as he was making his way to a more delectable area, the need for all of this was too great to pass up. Then, a cheer erupted out the back. They broke apart quickly and parted like they hadn’t even met that night. 

Now, she was to marry a man she had practically rejected. This wasn’t going to be fun.


End file.
